


Sov Gott

by XxThorleifxX



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, M/M, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-13 23:51:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4542273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxThorleifxX/pseuds/XxThorleifxX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Nordics are relatively close and always have been, despite their previous differences. Occasionally they enjoy getting together to prove this closeness, but with Finland and Sweden busy raising Sealand they could not attend the most recent. So, Norway, Denmark and Iceland have decided to get together on their own, which can only end in a bad situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Shut eyelids that hid dark blue eyes suddenly fluttered open, immediately squinting at the sudden brightness of the room. The sunlight filtered in without restraint from outside through a window across the room with the curtains pulled to the side. It was not a large room, nor was it fancy, but it certainly was enough for the owner, who rubbed his dark blue eyes and pulled himself onto his elbows. Norway's blonde hair fell into place immediately, yet he still ran a hand through it and combed out any sign of knots or tangles. Once he had accomplished this task he reached over and grabbed his signature hair clip, the gold cross, and slipped it into the section of hair that fell on the left side of his face. As he swung his legs out from under the covers, he groaned as he found the crick in his back from sleep. He stretched this crick out and hoped it would be better later.

As he walked down the hallway he briefly peered into his housemate's rooms, noticing that the other two were still asleep, and conducting his morning routine in the restroom. As he brushed his teeth, he stared at his reflection and straightened his nightshirt. It was not so much a thought of self-awareness as it was a habit; after all, his nightshirt was a simple white t-shirt with baggy, grey sweatpants. As he rinsed his mouth, a bit of water splashed up and landed on his thigh, but he merely shrugged and moved on to the kitchen, where he began making coffee and put a piece of bread in the toaster. Soon, the toast was thoroughly buttered and a mug of coffee was steaming directly next to it.

Norway was enjoying the peace and solitude of the morning while it lasted, slowly sipping at his coffee as it hit the temperature when it became most delicious and savory. He finished his toast quickly and put another piece into the toaster. Norway continued sipping at his coffee as he walked to the front door, retrieving that day's newspaper and bringing it back to the kitchen just in time for the bread to have been completely toasted.

It was at this time that his little brother, Iceland, came out. Iceland, clad in his long-sleeved nightshirt and tattered yoga pants, shuffled into the kitchen and plopped himself in his usual chair. Norway set a plate in front of him and soon there was a small pile of toast occupying the space atop the plate and a mug of coffee next to it. A mumbled "morning," came from Iceland and Norway nodded his head in response.

Naturally, with the smell of coffee and noise of toast being made, Denmark came stumbling in ten minutes after Iceland. Dressed in a halfway buttoned up shirt, and only underwear for pants, Denmark slouched into his seat. Norway rolled his eyes, grabbing some Advil and putting them next to Denmark's mug. Norway grabbed a chunk of Denmark's hair and forced Denmark's eyes to meet his, saying slowly and clearly, "You really have to stop coming home drunk at two in the morning." Norway then released Denmark's hair and ruffled it back into place. Denmark nodded, having had the lecture many times before, and eagerly took the Advil that had been left for him.

Norway, seeing that everyone had been given breakfast, left to change for the day. Given that it was a day off for all three of them, Norway pulled on a light sweater and jeans, given that it was cooler outside he put a long-sleeved button up shirt on underneath the sweater. Norway had no other plans for the day than relaxing and enjoying time with Denmark and Iceland, and for once he knew that that was all they had planned this as well. He grabbed at least five blankets and dragged them out to the living room to their couch. Norway rolled into one of the blankets, enjoying the warmth that came from the soft fabric. The fibers tickled his nose as he buried his face into the blanket, but he smiled to himself at this luxury. Denmark came out to join Norway shortly afterwards, dressed in a simple shirt and yoga pants. He rubbed his eyes as he sat down next to Norway.

"What's got you so peppy this morning?" He asked Norway, noting the multiple blankets. Norway shrugged and threw one on top of Denmark, who promptly curled up in it and sat directly next to Norway. Denmark leaned over and pressed a small, tiny kiss to Norway's cheek. "I didn't get to say good morning earlier, so I'll say it now." He hesitated as he pulled away, placing another quick peck on Norway's cheek before returning to his upright position. As Denmark looked in his peripherals he noticed a very small change of color in Norway's face, the hint of red that appeared on the top of Norway’s cheeks. Other than that, there was no sign of any emotion. Therefore, it was quite the surprise when Norway leaned over and returned the kiss to Denmark's cheek, whispering "morning," into Denmark's ear.

Needless to say, Denmark's face went beet red. That didn't stop him from reaching over, cupping Norway's neck and pulling the Norwegian's face slowly towards his until their lips met. Norway's hand reached under Denmark's chin and held him closer until they had broken off, their foreheads resting against the others’. Denmark grinned and kissed Norway one more time before leaning over and sifting through the CDs Norway had collected. They had planned to watch a few movies together before going to the park to fish. Iceland came out shortly after, silently wrapping himself in one of the blankets.

"Please don't make me watch Disney," was all he said as he sat down. Norway naturally responded by pulling out "Brother Bear" from the stack, which Denmark nodded to in approval.

And thus, they watched Disney.

Iceland glared at Norway throughout the Disney chime and corporation animation at the beginning, but secretly he loved that movie. Norway curled up next to Iceland, and Denmark rested his entire weight on the opposite side of Iceland, sardining Iceland in between them. All three of them hummed along to the songs.

Once that movie had finished, Iceland slipped “Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron” out of its casing and held it in front of him, and Norway was about to protest it when Denmark put the CD in. Norway bit his lip, knowing that he always cried in that movie. When it came time, he hid his face behind the blankets so the other two wouldn't see his tears, even though only two slipped through his eyelashes.

Once the movie had finished they proceeded to play Twister. It ended when Denmark, who both Norway and Iceland had been bent over, caved in and all three of them toppled down, and for once they all shared a laugh or two. They went for a walk afterward, getting a cup of ice cream and going to the park to fish. They walked to a forest and hiked for a little while, and then walked back home. When they reached the house, Denmark said that he would go and get dinner. Norway and Iceland shrugged, telling him to go ahead. In the meantime, Iceland convinced Norway to play video games with him.

An hour went by... Two...

Three hours... Four...

It had been six hours since Iceland and Norway had seen Denmark. Norway called Denmark as he cooked Ramen on the stove, but all he got was voicemail. The blonde Norwegian groaned as the annoying bleep came through the phone speaker and told him to leave a message, to which Norway responded by snapping his out-of-date flip-phone shut.

"Must've gone to the bar after all," he muttered under his breath as he re-entered the room where Iceland still played on the game. The Icelandic paused the game as Norway entered with two bowls of Ramen.

"Well? Where is he?" Iceland asked as he carefully sipped at some of the broth. Norway shrugged and shook his head, taking a spoonful of broth and placing it in his mouth after blowing on it for awhile.

"No idea. I got voicemail." Iceland furrowed his eyebrows at this and laughed nervously.

"He must have his phone off, if he didn't answer a call from you." Norway snapped his head to Iceland and, with a rather dangerous tone of voice asked "what's _that_ supposed to mean, exactly?" Iceland smirked and shoved Norway's shoulder.

"Oh come on, I've known he likes you since the Viking Era." Norway blushed slightly, but only a barely detectable shade redder than his normal skin color.

"He must be at the bar," Norway stated again, shrugging as if he didn't care. In reality he was quite worried. It wasn't uncommon for Denmark to be distracted and forget about a chore of sorts and go to the bar instead, but he always called to tell them that he was going to be late. Eventually Iceland retired to his bedroom, and Norway said goodnight to him before turning on the news. Nothing peculiar was on the news, no shootings or car accidents. His nerves soothed, Norway shut the television off and was about to go to his room when he saw one of the pictures that the Nordics had taken together. He picked up the frame and looked at it with an almost fond expression before placing it back on the side table. As Norway walked down the hallway he looked at the other photos that hung on the wall. Noticing a crooked frame, Norway sighed and began fixing its angle when he looked at the drawn portrait that seemed so old now.

When Norway was able to get over his nostalgia in the hallway, he walked in the darkness of night to his bed and slipped under the covers after changing, showering and brushing his teeth. However, when he awoke in the morning Denmark had yet to return. Norway began to have a rather hard time breathing and his heartbeat began racing. Once again Norway checked the news but nothing important seemed to be on. There were still no automobile accidents, no deaths, no fights. Naturally Norway was awake before Iceland, but this morning Norway replaced his usual mug of coffee with a warm cup of chamomile tea. The chamomile's aroma helped calm the Norwegian slightly, but certainly not enough. Around ten in the morning, Norway called Denmark again, and the ringing continued until the blare of voicemail was heard once more.

"Heeeyyyy, can't get to the phone at the moment! If you want me to call you back, leave a message!" Norway heard Denmark's voice over the voicemail and had to sit down, or he would have lurched and fell over. Norway took a deep breath before speaking.

"Hey bror. Just checking to see where you are. I'll come and pick you up if you're not too drunk... like the last time I found you. Either way, call me when you get this." Norway then hit the "END" button on his phone and snapped it shut. He swore to himself and ran his hand through his hair, a nervous habit of his. He didn't eat anything that morning, but drank more tea than he normally did coffee.

When Iceland came out from his room, it was at least noon, and was clear from Norway's observations that he hadn't had a restful night. The first clue to this fact was the book that Iceland shamefully tried to hide behind his leg. Iceland nodded greetings to Norway, and Norway returned the gesture with a slight dip of the head. Iceland held out the book to Norway. It was the Poetic Edda, one of Iceland's absolute favorite books, whether he admitted it or not. Norway examined the title and looked from Iceland's face to the book. With a bashful countenance, Iceland held out the book to the page of which told of Signy. Norway took the book, unsure exactly of what Iceland was implying from these actions until the Icelandic sat down in front of Norway, wrapping one of the blankets left from yesterday around himself.

After taking a deep breath, Norway began to read the passage. He kept his voice calm and steady, but at a slower pace so that if one were drowsy in his presence, one would have been fast asleep in seconds.

When Norway finished the story, Iceland was leaning against Norway's legs and quite close to falling asleep himself.

"Thanks, Nor. I couldn't sleep well last night so I thought If you read me a..." And with that, Iceland fell asleep.

An hour or so later, after reading more of the stories from Iceland's book, Norway fell asleep as well. It was a cloudy day, but the sun would appear every now and then. After thirty minutes of rest, Norway awoke at nothing more than Iceland changing the position of his head against Norway's leg. Norway sighed and pulled over the sealed notebook he kept as a journal.

He only ever recorded war dates, or when people he was friends with died off, or birthdays and occasionally daily events, especially those that Norway did not want to forget. He brought a pen to the old parchment paper, and began to scrawl the date on the top right corner. Under it, he wrote _Denmark gone, most likely drunk somewhere. I am, as of now, bored and have nothing else to do, seeing that Iceland is asleep and he chose to fall asleep on my legs, I cannot move without waking him. However, what I can not fathom at the moment, is where Denmark has gone. Perhaps one of his bar friends took him to their house. I am deciding to wait a little longer before alerting the police._

Norway signed the page off in his choppily-smooth, small and cramped handwriting. He pulled his phone out and flipped it open, checking to see if Denmark had replied. When the screen blinked awake, the only message awaiting him was the time and date. Frustrated, he snapped the phone shut.

Later, when Iceland had woken up, Norway made a small portion of fish that he had found in the refrigerator. They ate silently, a heavy weight in their stomachs making their appetite smaller and smaller. Both could barely finish the meal, and afterward they went for a small walk around the house.

That night, when Norway went to his bedroom to sleep, Iceland had been in bed for hours already, but at two in the morning Norway was gently shaken awake by Iceland crawling into bed with him. Norway put his arms around Iceland, soothing his little brother, who was shaking out of fear, and telling him that it'd be alright.

"A silly man lies awake all night, thinking of many things. In the morning he is worn with care, and his trouble is just as it was.” Iceland nodded, remembering the line from his storybook and promptly fell asleep. An hour later, Norway fell asleep as well.

The next morning, there was still no Denmark. There was nothing valuable on the news. Norway picked up his phone, sending a silent prayer to whatever God would listen that there would be a message. His heart racing, Norway punched the numbers of Denmark's phone number into his phone, biting his lip as the ringing began.

In an alley, on the top of the garbage disposal, a phone rang. The phone blared its ringtone with surprising efficiency, but its owner had been long gone. It rang its heart out, the battery dying before it reached the last ring. As the phone shut off, the alley was deathly silent, as if witness to a greatly horrific event. The glow from the screen of the phone was eliminated, and the lock screen that showed two men and one boy, all pale-skinned, but the men blonde and blue eyed and the boy with purple eyes and grey hair, was illuminated no more that day from silly calls, though it received many.


	2. Chapter Two

The Norwegian stared at the call history, the desperate attempts to talk to him, only to have gone immediately to voicemail. The house was in stunned silence, and Norway took a deep breath before he punched in "911". It was midnight, therefore two days without any contact to Denmark. This had happened once before and it had just turned out that Denmark had been at a friend's house but had lost his phone. Either way, Norway knew it was better to be safe than sorry.

"911. What's your emergency?" The receiver had a slightly scratchy voice, and Norway sadly found himself surprised that his call had been answered.

"I'd like to report a missing person," Norway responded, his voice steady despite the ever accelerating thump of his heart.

"When was the last time you saw the missing person?"

"Sometime two days ago. He left our home, and sometimes he'll show up after a day, but he hasn't answered my calls, and I believe his phone is dead."

"Alright, sir. We'll send out some patrols, but would request you to come to the police station." And with that, the person on the other line hung up. Norway shut the phone with a finality that would last two hours and slipped it into his pocket. Iceland was watching from the couch, and when he saw Norway walking to the entryway and grabbing his jacket, Iceland jumped to his feet and bounded next to Norway, grabbing his coat on his way over. Norway gave Iceland a stern look as he pulled on his jacket.

"You aren't allowed to come along, Ice. I don't want you to see this." Iceland stood his ground, however. Iceland's pet puffin flew onto his shoulder, Norway had no idea where the bird had come from, though.

"He doesn't give a da-" the bird began before Iceland clamped its' beak shut.

"Norway, I know you don't want me to see what's going on, but I have to be informed of things like this. You can't protect me from everything."

Norway groaned in exasperation. "Wouldn't it be nice if I could? Even if I thought I could protect you from things like this, it's evident that simply protecting you from it doesn't stop it from happening. So congratulations, Iceland, welcome to the real world. How does it feel?" Norway's voice was getting a sarcastic vibe, a hurtful, sarcastic tone he always got when even he, one of the most emotionless people, became upset. Iceland took a deep breath, keeping in mind that the hurtful sting he felt from the words only existed because of Norway's strained emotions.

"I don't want to go through this any more than you do, Nor. But I don't want you going through this alone."

Norway harrumphed and shot Iceland an unwavering glare.

"I can handle things like this on my own, Iceland." He then turned around and opened the door, and was just about to shut it behind him when Iceland shouted out "Are you sure you want me here all alone?" and Norway froze. Slowly, the door reopened.

"I'm not letting you come along because you won this argument, because you didn't. I'm letting you come along because you'd be safer with me." And with that, Norway and Iceland drove to the police station and entered the waiting room. Iceland, in the silence, fell asleep on Norway's shoulder, while Norway stared at the ground ahead of him. They stayed like this for awhile, until a sympathetic police officer came to them with two cups of coffee, one that was theirs’ and one for Norway, seeing that Iceland was still asleep. The police officer bit his lip as he knew the silence was about to be broken.

"I'm sorry that you two have to go through this," the officer began quietly. "We'll try our hardest to find him, but it will take awhile. The station asks you to be patient. In the meantime, I don't have any paperwork I need to fill out, so I signed myself and my partner up to be your escorts." Norway furrowed his eyebrows at this.

"Escorts?" The police officer nodded.

"We need to keep you two safe, just in case Denmark was abducted." Norway didn't respond. Instead, he used his free hand to stroke some of Iceland's hair off of his forehead. The officer bit his lip as he watched the two for awhile.

"Hey um... If you don't mind me asking, are you really personified nations?" Norway looked over with his blank, emotionless expression and nodded slowly, taking another sip of coffee.

"Would you like me to tell you about what it was like to raid England's harbors repeatedly during the Viking era? I can still hone a pretty sharp axe... Or depending on your tastes in weaponry a sword as well." The officer went rigid for a moment, knowing full well the reputation of the Vikings. "I can also tell you what it was like to talk to Edvard Grieg before he wrote a piece in his home, I can recite the exact words of my constitution and am fluent in every dialect of Norwegian that has ever been spoken." The officer sighed immensely.

"Wow, so it is true," he whispered, but the whisper had so much air behind it that it was really more of a breath than a sentence. Norway nodded, looking down at Iceland's sleeping form.

"My name is Norway, and this is my little brother Iceland."

"I was about to ask how you two were related," the police officer said, already accepting of the idea of personified nations. "But what's your relationship to Denmark exactly?" Norway didn't look away from Iceland as he answered.

"He and I grew up together, and we've come to be rather like family, though Iceland and I are the only ones actually related by blood." Norway sighed. "Denmark and I were once under a union together, but I gained independence from him in 1814. Iceland remained under Danish rule for quite some time himself, yet we're all independent now... In short, he was supposed to be back in time to watch Iceland while I went on a business trip, and I'm rather peeved that he hasn't shown up yet."

The officer nodded slowly, his mind tracing facts back to the history classes he'd taken in school.

"Must be a difficult life, having to live as the personification of a nation."

Norway looked over at the officer and gave him one of his rare, small smiles. "Most people think it would be fun," the Norwegian man began, "what, with living forever."

The police officer shook his head. "Excuse my language, but it sounds like it would be hell to live forever."

Norway laughed softly, looking down at Iceland with a brotherly fondness as he stroked a few strands of hair off of Iceland's forehead again.

"At times, it is. Often I find myself wishing for death, but my people support me too much for me to simply drop down dead. No, the Kingdom of Norway would have to be crumbling for me to die. Even then I'd return as a spirit through the history books. You're the first mortal I've met that's given me true compassion." The officer sighed heavily, shrugging.

"And somehow, that fact does not surprise me." Norway raised his eyebrows in response. "Humans are arrogant fools. We look to overextend our lives because we simply want to live longer, but we forget how lonely our lives would be if we could live for eternity," he sighed greatly. "It's the main theme of the Epic of Gilgamesh." Norway nodded, somewhat impressed.

"When you're with others that will live forever it isn't as horrible, but it's hard to see so many of your friends pass. I was rather close to some of my leaders, and I've had to be at their bedside every time as they breathed their last breath..." Norway paused. "Then because of personal disputes, people lose their lives in your name," Norway looked dead into the officer's eyes, "it truly is, pardon my language, hell to be a personification." After that, there was a long pause of silence between them, and Iceland's hand curled up around the fabric of Norway's shirt sleeve.

"My name's Geoffrey, but you can call me Jeff. My partner likes to call me 'Geoffrey Justice,' but please don't catch on to that." Norway shook his head.

"You could call me Nor for short. Or Norge."

"Norge?"

"No, lighter on the 'g' and the 'e'. Nor-yeh."

"Norge?"

"Closer, Nor-yeh,"

"Norge? Nor-yah"

"How about you just stick with calling me Nor?"

"Good idea," the officer said, and both laughed quietly. Suddenly a man dressed in a rather relaxed-looking vest walked up, his brown hair tediously being swept backwards from his forehead, but lacking the gel required to make it stay back, which was a quick and simple way of explaining how often his hand brushed through his hair.

"Ey Jeff! I finished that paperw— why, who've we got here?" The man said as he approached, his voice dropping volume considerably.

"This is Iceland and Norway, Norway, meet my partner Jones."

Jones nodded in greeting to Norway, holding his hand out. "Nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. Norway. I assume these are the people we're supposed to be escorting?"

"Yup, this is them."

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance as well," Norway responded softly, shaking Jones's hand.

"So are you really..?"

Norway laughed and responded "I am," and Jones cast a look to Jeff, and Jeff nodded.

"He is," Jeff confirmed, and Jones leaned back against the wall and sighed a soft "wow." Norway shrugged as if immortality was nothing special and looked at a blank space on the wall, though there was nothing on it.

Jones reached over and pulled Jeff aside, whispering a few things to him that Norway couldn't quite hear.

"Really? Hm... Well then, Mr. Norway, I will escort you back to your ho—"

"I'd rather stay here for awhile, if you don't mind. Iceland's getting more sleep than he got last night, and I don't want to wake him..." The officers glanced at each other quickly before shrugging and nodding.

"Alright," said Jeff, "you can stay the night. Jones and I've got to check in with your case as the information rolls in anyways, so make yourself comfortable."

Suddenly smooth jazz started playing, and Jones quickly pulled his phone out and answered the call before the ringtone played for much longer. "Excuse me, but I need to take this call," he said, and left the room.

"Do you have a family?" Norway asked suddenly when Jones was out of the room, and Jeff, who had been zoning out, jumped at the sudden and unexpected question.

"Erm, well, yes, I've got a wife and two lovely children."

"They sound wonderful," Norway said politely, and Jeff began digging in his pocket.

"They can be," Jeff said, chuckling. "Here, I knew I had a photo of them in my wallet," he pulled out a photo that was tattered around the edges with a charming woman, a young girl and an older boy. "My wife's named Elise, my son's Sigurd and my daughter's Elaine."

Norway laughed weakly, "they look very kind, I'd love to meet them one day." Jeff put the photo back in his wallet and returned his wallet to his pocket.

"My family's right in front of you," Norway patted Iceland's shoulders gently. "Then of course Sweden, Denmark and Finland as well."

"Do you have a photo?"

"I do, but it's rather old..." Norway reached into the pocket on the front of his light jacket and pulled out his simple wallet. He then began to get a photo, even more tattered and worn than the one Jeff had shown, and held it out to Jeff. Jeff looked at it, noting the black and white coloring of the picture, and made a mental note that despite the obvious age of the picture, there was little to no difference from the photographed Norway and Iceland and the older people in the same room as him. He did note how happy all five of them looked however, every one of them were smiling, though how much they smiled varied by personalities.

Jeff recognized Norway and Iceland, and both had smaller, more subtle smiles. The tallest and the only one with glasses was barely smiling, but the man with his arms wrapped around Norway and Iceland's shoulders with spiky hair was grinning the widest grin that Jeff believed was humanly possible. The shorter man next to the tall man had a perfect in-between smile from Norway and Denmark, matching the meeting point of the variations perfectly.

"And which one is it that's missing?"

Norway pointed to the man with spiky hair and the wide grin, "that's Denmark. And this," he moved his finger to the taller man, "is Sweden," he slid his finger down to the man next to Sweden, "and Finland. They've 'adopted' Sealand though, so we'll need to take another picture with the whole family now."

Jeff sighed as Norway put the picture and the wallet back in their proper places. "Nor, I... Have to tell you something. We've sent out a few men to patrol the area and ask some questions, but I want you to know that this police station will do all it can so that you may reunite yourselves as soon as possible."

To this Norway dipped his head in gratuity. "I thank your station, but I do hope that we can stop being bothersome to you and your coworkers."

"No, no, you haven't been bothersome at all. Do not worry about it, Mr. Norway. I've found that I rather enjoy your presence."

"And I, yours. Pardon me, but I think I will try to catch up on some sleep now. Wake me if you find out anything." And with that, Norway shifted Iceland's torso so that his head fell onto Norway's chest and soon, Norway was asleep, one arm loosely wrapped around Iceland. Jeff smiled to himself as he looked at the two, knowledge of what Jones had reported back to him weighing his heart and shoulders as he leaned back next to the brothers, taking a sip of coffee.

The patrol the station had sent out was not a scan, it was a search for a man that had not been seen for more than twenty-four hours.

After thirty minutes of doing quite literally nothing, Jeff got a call while getting another cup of coffee.

It was Jones, reporting what had been found. "All that we could find was his cell phone, which had been thrown in the dumpster, and a few scuff marks. I called down to the people who own the security cameras around here, and they gave us access to the tapes from last night. You should check them out, I'll be back to the station in no time and you can tell me if you see anything."

After the call, Jeff went to his desk, which was mildly cluttered, and viewed the tape that he had been given access to. He swore, quite loudly, when he saw what had happened.

He saw the man, who in the photograph had been so cheerful and happy, being dragged down an alley. He was fighting, yelling at the top of his lungs, by the look of it, but no one was around to hear him. Nor did he get the chance to scream for very long before a man cloaked in black came out of the shadows and stabbed him with a syringe. Denmark dropped to the ground, his legs crumpling underneath him.

Quickly the man tied up the fallen Impersonation, and drug him into a vehicle whose design was popular at the moment. When it drove away, the license plate was illegible due to the glare of lights reflecting off of it. There was a person who came by later who threw something into the garbage, that Jeff could only assume was Denmark's phone. Jeff clamped his hand over his mouth, shutting his eyelids slowly.

He did not wake up Norway and Iceland to share the details of the video, instead he watched them sleep for a while, greatly dreading the information he would have to tell them when they woke up.


	3. Chapter Three

Light blonde hair that spiked at random intervals fell in a downward direction. The head of the person whose hair was scattered about was resting against a hard floor. His heartbeat thrummed under his skin, which was the only way of telling that the man was not dead.

The Danish man's eyes twitched underneath their lids as he stirred, and when his eyes opened he yawned, moving to sit up. The first thing he noticed was the stiffness in his neck. He rubbed his neck, turning his head to look at how his pillow had been positioned when he saw the absence of a pillow at all, and a bed altogether. He furrowed his eyebrows, utterly confused at the situation. He stood up and walked around the room he had been put in and examined every millimeter to his eye. His mind kept searching for an explanation, and it was only when he realized that he had no idea of his location that he remembered being chased, and suddenly losing consciousness. Denmark began shouting, trying to gain attention.

A scratchy sound came into the room, and politely told Denmark that if he didn't stop yelling he'd both lose his voice for absolutely no reason, and also risk the person speaking to come down and kill him.

This led to many questions, and Denmark soon learnt that most everything was going to be responded with "sorry, that's classified." He also learnt, when he asked how long he was going to be there, that he was most likely never going to see the sunshine again.

He tried to keep himself calm, but that was nearly impossible. He thought of Norway and Iceland, and his heart immediately darkened as he realized that he might never see them again. He stretched himself out, considering how stiff his muscles were from laying in who-knows-what position for who-knows-how-long. A bowl of soup and a small loaf of bread were shoved through a tiny slot in the wall. The thought occurred to him to try and escape through it, but after careful consideration he noticed that the door was far too small to attempt to squeeze through. He ate the soup and bread, knowing that it would be better to eat than sit in the room while going hungry and waste food.

After what felt like a day, but in actuality was only two hours, the door to Denmark's holding room was opened. Denmark jumped at the opportunity to run, but the men shot him down, literally. They nailed him in the back of the head, and once Denmark had recovered they dragged him into a plain room. There they tied him to a chair and attached old-fashioned weight chains to both of Denmark's ankles.

A woman came up to Denmark and gagged Denmark with a bandana. Once she knew he was incapable of speaking, she stepped a few yards back and pulled out a long cord with bits of glass at the end. She unfurled it and sent it flying across Denmark's skin repeatedly.

The whole two hours she whipped him were recorded, put on a tape player and dropped outside on the lawn of a pleasant looking home.


	4. Chapter Four

Norway hesitantly placed the tape into the player on his television, dreading the numerous sights that could greet him when the video played. Jeff was standing in the corner and Jones was next to Norway. They had told Norway what they had found on the case, but were going to withhold the information from Iceland for a little longer. The younger nation was becoming sick from worry _without_ that knowledge, though he acted as though he was hiding it from everyone. Norway informed the officers that Iceland had retreated to a similar behavior as when he had been a toddler. When Iceland left the room, Norway would follow, and, as he told them, he did not protest Norway's comforting and soothing like he normally would at this stage in his life. Iceland was in the lavatory, most likely throwing up his lunch and trying to clean himself up to look like nothing had happened, so Norway decided to play the tape he had found at this moment. Jeff was guarding the hallway, making sure that Iceland wouldn't get in before they finished the tape.

Norway hit the PLAY button.

Denmark, beaten up a little bit, but otherwise well, was tied to a chair and gagged. Norway lurched towards the screen, but Jones caught him and held Norway back. That was only a moment before a whip came out of nowhere and lashed at Denmark's skin over and over. Jones couldn't hold Norway any longer and Norway fell to his knees, staring at the screen as blood and flesh flew from Denmark. Due to being a personification, his wounds began healing immediately. But new wounds were opened as soon as an old one began to heal. Norway's hands clenched the fabric of his shirt, which was the only physical showing of emotion Norway portrayed. Norway stood up after fifteen minutes, stopped the recording and walked towards the door. As Norway began roughly pulling on his jacket, Jones ran up to him and threw himself across the door before Norway could reach it.

"Where are you going?"

Norway laughed a bit, in a dangerously slow way. "I'm going to teach those sons of bi-"

Jones slapped Norway with enough force to knock him away from the door. "You're not going anywhere near that area until it's safe! How do you think Iceland would react if you went missing too? Let the police handle it, Mr. Norway."

Norway glared at Jones for a long time, barely blinking. Jones, however, stared right back.

"Fine. I won't leave," he paused for a moment before continuing, "as long as I may still contribute, and you keep me informed."

Jones sighed and nodded. "Of course. You don't even need to ask yourself that, Nor-"

"Nor, what's going on? Where are you going?" Iceland, at the top of the stairs, was watching the scene with frightful, wide eyes. "What did Jones mean by all that?"

"Iceland, were you eavesdropping?" Norway was hanging his coat up again and climbing the stairs so it was easier to talk to Iceland.

"I heard that commotion and someone being hit... I thought you'd snapped and told them to get out of the house, so I came running out to apologize for anything you did, but,” Iceland's eyes flicked in Jones's direction as he paused. "It looks like it was the other way around. What happened?"

Norway bit his lip. "I tried to go out for a walk alone, but Jones was holding me back, saying I couldn't go without one of our kind escorts. I, as much as I hate to admit it, tripped on one of the stairs as I was going up and fell. Everything's fine, Iceland."

Despite Norway's quick-witted cover, Iceland was not convinced.

"What's on the television?" Iceland asked, looking at the solid blue screen with STOP written across the top left corner. Norway quickly blocked Iceland from going into the room with the television with his body.

"Old home videos." Iceland still was not convinced, but Norway did not move. Norway sighed, and after calling Jeff and Jones over, they explained what was really going on. Norway retrieved a bucket for Iceland while Jeff and Jones talked, but once he stood next to Iceland again, his younger brother wrapped his hand around Norway's arm in a childish way of trying to hide behind his elder brother.

"Is that what's on the screen?" Iceland whispered, twitching his head in the television's direction. Jones bit his lip and Jeff sighed, responding by a simple nod. Iceland clamped his hands over his mouth and Norway stroked his back in a soothing fashion. In Jones’ eyes, it reminded him of the way his mother would always soothe him when he was scared or upset.

"I think it's better if you don’t watch that," Norway whispered, and Iceland nodded slowly. As Iceland's face flushed Norway pulled the bucket towards him. Norway sighed and ran his hand through his hair before standing up. "Anyone else hungry? I can make lefse wraps if someone wants one." Jeff and Jones nodded, and though Iceland didn't say anything Norway knew he needed food. Norway came out shortly after with a plate neatly stacked with lefse wraps, four with meat and three without, for he knew that Jeff was a vegetarian. Iceland ate half of one before excusing himself. Norway excused himself as well and followed Iceland to the restroom.

"Why them?"

Jones jumped at the sudden question. "What?"

"For such a nice family, why did something like this have to happen to them?" Jeff's eyes were darkened, his elbows resting on his knees as his head hung. "I've mentioned once around Norway that I was a vegetarian, and he picked it up immediately to better accommodate me. He's done nothing but accept us into his home and make sure we're comfortable."

"That may be so, but they live and have lived lives we couldn't even begin to dream of. We barely know anything about them," Jones reached out to touch Jeff's shoulder gently, sighing.

Jeff's saddened eyes seemed to penetrate Jones'. "What we do know of them is good, and that's as much as we can say for their personality. Either way, no one deserves to have this happen, especially kind people like them."

Jones took a deep breath before speaking, "I sent a copy of the tape sent to the station and had someone at the station view the film. The man Norway identified as Denmark sustained over one hundred and fifty blows. That's far more than humanly possible... It truly blows my mind. The people whipping him continued until Denmark’s skin wasn’t regenerating quick enough, which signaled that he was beginning to lose a grip of his immortality at roughly the one hundred and ninety second blow."

Jeff whistled, impressed. "Norway wasn't kidding," he said, his voice quiet. "They really do have long, painful lives."

"One can only imagine a life like that," Jeff said in agreement. "I don't think I would be able to stand it."

"You get used to it after a while." Norway, who neither of them had noticed before, was standing in the hallway. Jeff and Jones suddenly felt extremely embarrassed and flustered, having been caught talking about Norway behind his back. "There are the benefits, but..." Norway paused and leaned against the wall, "the position certainly reminds you of how cruel the world is. We forget that sometimes, I think."

The room was silent as Norway's words settled in the air. He approached, continuing to stand. "Would anyone like some tea? It's getting awfully late, and we should rest soon."

Jeff and Jones nodded, and soon chamomile tea was set out in front of them, cooled to the perfect drinking temperature. As they drank the tea, Jones saw an instrument case in the corner of the room. "Do any of you play?" He asked, nodding towards the case.

Norway nodded yes and said simply, "I play violin." He took a sip of tea before expanding the thought. "Most of us have learnt how to play an instrument in our spare time, when we weren't at war or attending meetings. Then again, I mostly fiddle." He set down his cup and stood up, walking over to the instrument case. Bending his legs to unlatch the bindings he opened the case to show a dark-wooded violin. It had curved markings across the front and back of the instrument. He carried it back to the police officers, running the bow along a chunk of rosin.

"I made it... Took me a while to get the rosemaling right, but I think it turned out nicely."

Jones's jaw dropped slightly, staring at the wooden instrument. "Y-you made that," he said, looking straight into Norway's eyes.

Norway nodded, suddenly seeming embarrassed. "I had a lot of free time."

Jones smiled, examining the violin carefully. "It's beautiful, Norway," he said, and Norway actually blushed slightly, but he could not tell whether it was from embarrassment or praise. "It doesn't look like a normal violin, though."

"Oh, um, this's a Hardanger Fiddle. It's meant to have six strings instead of four, good for the fiddling from... my country."

Jones clapped his hands together once and his eyes brightened. "Could you play something for us?"

Norway shrugged, "I've got it out anyway, might as well play something." And with that, he placed the instrument under his chin and on his shoulder and began playing. It was a fun and short folk tune, and his foot tapped out a strong beat as he played. Norway's fingers jumped around the fingerboard as the bow went back and forth in syncopated rhythms, but it was soon over.

Jeff and Jones were quite stunned at Norway's talent, and yet at the same time they were not surprised at all. They clapped slowly at first but soon were clapping like mad, for they had enjoyed Norway's playing very much.

"For my son's birthday you should come play a song like that for him. He adores fiddling and classical music, bless him."

"I shall," Norway said in agreement. "Let me know when it is and I'll plan to be there." Norway began putting the fiddle away, loosening the bow and making sure the rosin was back in the case before shutting the instrument case and snapping the buckles together. He looked at the time and rubbed his neck. "I think it's about time I retire to my bedroom for the night." With that Jeff and Jones wished him a nice night and went to bed themselves.


	5. Chapter Five

The next morning Norway and Iceland took a walk with Jeff. It was a cold, overcast, autumn morning. Iceland had a pair of earmuffs on and Norway was wearing a knitted infinity scarf spotted with cute little markings. Iceland's sweater was enough to keep him warm without a jacket, but Norway had a dark blue and surprisingly stylish coat on. Jeff walked awkwardly next to Iceland, wearing a button-up shirt and blue jeans with a heavier jacket on than either of the personifications. The wind was beginning to turn harshly bitter against their skin, proven by all three having red noses and ears as they walked. If not for the breeze rustling dry leaves from trees and birds calling out to one another, the atmosphere would have been absolutely silent. Fog hung along the ground, and darkness seemed to be approaching, signaling that there was going to be a storm later on.

“We should head back soon. That storm looks… ominous.” Jeff commented, having seen the darkness in the sky.

Norway and Iceland turned to look at the approaching storm before responding.

“It won’t arrive for at least fifteen minutes. Even then, it will take twenty minutes from now for the rain to be heavy. We can stay out for at least ten more minutes,” Norway was clearly more comfortable outside. That was obvious to Jeff and Iceland, though neither of them were going to admit that they had read Norway’s behavior. He seemed more relaxed, and in truth Norway’s mind was always cleared when he was outside. The fresh air erased all of his headaches and worries, and Norway’s overall thought process was improved.

“Norway, I would rather not have you be electrocuted on my watch,” Jones said, chuckling under his breath.

Iceland rolled his eyes, turning away from the conversation. As much as the teenage part of Iceland wanted to run back to the house alone, too much of that childish fear gripped him and held him close to the two adults with him.

“I wouldn’t be electrocuted, and even if I was, I’d be perfectly fine. “

“Norway, you need to take better care of yourself.”

“I take care of myself as much as I need to, thank you very much.”

“You’re fighting an uphill battle, Jeff,” Iceland interjected, finally deciding to go home. “He’ll do whatever he wants to do, and nothing you say can stop him.” Iceland rubbed the back of his neck, looking up at the sky. “My brother can spend as much time as he wants out here getting soaked, but as for me, I’m heading back _before_ the storm hits us.”

Jeff reached out as Iceland turned and began to jog back to the home, turning to send a look to Norway that silently asked for his opinion. Norway responded with a small hand motion Jeff understood as "go on."

            "I'll go back soon, I just want a few more minutes in the fresh air before it starts pouring," and with that Jeff ran to catch up with Iceland, leaving Norway alone. Sighing at the peace, Norway turned his head up to the sky and shut his dark blue eyes. Birds were calling warnings of rain and already beginning to take shelter, but their calls still drew Norway to them in the haunting way only birds can.

People called him nutty because he believed in magic, but he always laughed and responded with the statement that there's magic all around us. He did pretend to aim that statement towards all the creatures that he alone could see, but he also targeted the sentence at the small things in life, such as nature's beauty, life in general, the breathtaking reality that we play a part in so much more than our own lives... The fact that so many people were oblivious to this obvious magic astounded Norway. In his eyes, you didn't need to be able to see trolls or faeries, you just needed to open your eyes to what was already there. He just wished that Denmark was there so he could have said this out loud to someone.

When Norway opened his eyes the clouds were approaching rapidly, but he knew if he headed back at that moment he would be spared from becoming drenched. So with a heavy heart, Norway began trekking back home. Halfway to the home small sprinkles of rain started to land on him, and when the house greeted his eyes the rain was pelting down in sheets and becoming heavier. His hair quickly became plastered to his face, his shoulders damp and his vision clouded by rain dripping into his eyes.

He trudged himself up to the front door and pulled out his keys. There were four locks now, including a fingerprint scan. This had been applied to almost all of the doors, inside and out. It was slightly annoying and highly tedious, but based on the content of the video the four of them had decided that it was best to be safe.

Norway had just finished scanning his fingerprint and was opening the door when it was shoved open from the other side. Both men jumped and stumbled backwards, Norway regaining his balance and Jeff falling onto the stairs. Norway entered the home and shut the door behind him, holding a hand out to help Jeff off the ground.

"You hadn't come home yet, so I was starting to worry," he stuttered, and Norway sneezed into his elbow once Jeff was back on his feet.

"I just got caught up thinking and accidentally stayed out longer than I planned. I apologize for making you worry," Jeff took a deep breath that made his ribcage expand greatly before sighing.

"It's okay, Sir. Don't worry about it. It's my job to keep you safe, that's all."

Norway bit his lip as silence fell between them.

“I’ve never needed to be kept safe, even when the Union between Denmark and I was broken off. I had people trying to assassinate me left and right, but I have never needed bodyguards.” Norway laughed. Jeff found Norway’s laugh eerie; it was harsh and cold, though he knew Norway did not intend his laughter to be so bitter. “Then again, times have evolved. My existence seems to be known by a lot more people than a century or two ago. I don’t blame anyone though. Denmark _was_ kidnapped, and it’s obvious that they’re not going to let him go unless we apply force. If we don’t get Denmark back soon his government will collapse before June fifth.” Jones sent Norway a confused look at the specific date. The officer’s mind was baffled; he had no idea if the date was a special day or just a Norwegian phrase.

“His Constitution Day that is, one of the days Personifications use as his birthday. That reminds me, when did you say your son's birthday is?"

Jeff paused before answering, "November eleventh."

"Soon, then."

"I... I guess it is," Jeff began walking back up the steps, Norway following shortly behind him. "Speaking of which, you and Iceland will be coming to stay at my house for a while."

"When?"

"Tomorrow. I apologize for not telling you earlier, but it was only confirmed yesterday. We need to shake up any habits and make your location less predictable in case... In case Denmark gives away any information on your location."

Norway made a small "ah" noise as he heard this, seeing that the action was logical in his mind. While he highly doubted Denmark would ever do such a thing, Denmark had never been exposed to this level of torture before. Norway could only imagine what they were doing to Denmark, and he shuddered at the thoughts. When Norway and Jeff finally reached the main floor they heard a loud crashing noise.

Norway jumped horribly and Jeff's hand flew to his gun, wrapping his hand around the weapon. Norway turned the corner and there was Iceland and Jones on the floor.

The television screen showed one of Iceland's favorite video games, and Jones was laying flat on his back with Iceland sprawled on top of him as they played.

Both Iceland and Jones were completely focused, not noticing Norway and Jeff’s entrance. Norway and Jeff sighed and relaxed, seeing that the characters on the screen had just thrown something and that had been the result of the noise.

Norway went to the kitchen and soon reappeared with two bowls of popcorn, one for Iceland and Jones, one for himself and Jeff. This peace that struck their hearts that night ― it did not last long. However, for the short time it was present, it settled their hearts enough to put down their alarm for the first time in weeks.

Outside, the storm thundered on the roof, pelting the house in blankets of rain. It went on unnoticed by the four people inside of the home, but that didn’t stop the rain from pummeling into the Earth. Lightening flashed with the thunder clapping shortly after for an encore. The loud _boom_ shook the very foundation of the home, almost disturbing the people inside and the peace in their hearts.


	6. Crunch

_The police station could look a little livelier,_ Norway thought to himself as he and Iceland sat in between the desks of their escorts. Norway didn't know this, but Iceland was thinking the exact same thing. Jeff and Jones were bent over their desks, working on what they said were three cases, including a murder that needed a search warrant to proceed, the paperwork for their previous case as they waited for a friend of theirs in the building to approach them with the results of searching for the vehicle Denmark had been taken in.

Jones suddenly spun away from his desk to face Jeff, his arms crossed. "Finally got the judge to approve of that search warrant Detective Danger needed," he stated with a very proud look on his face. His nose was stuck up in the air as he held his head high, his brown eyes glinting playfully.

"Jones, it's not 'Detective Danger,' it's Detective _Derek_."

"Aw, but it's so much more fun to call him 'Detective Danger,' Jeff!" Jones then punched Jeff's arm repeatedly, but Norway and Iceland noticed that the punches were gentle and only joking.

"Jones, unless you want me to incorrectly file our previous case, I'd suggest you stop moving my arm."

Jones pouted, retreating to his own desk. "You're no fun, Jeff."

Jeff gasped loudly with an over exaggerated flair. "Me? Not fun? I'll just let you know that I find that statement to be highly insulting."

"But it is true."

Jeff turned around in his chair and slapped Jones but the Personifications noticed that it was gentle once again, more of a tap than a slap, in all reality.

The captain of their precinct turned around the corner at that moment, and in the blink of an eye both Jeff and Jones were back to working.

            Jeff's phone began to ring and Jones quickly rolled over to pick up. "Detectives Jeff and Jones here." He rested his elbow on Jeff’s desk casually as he listened to the person on the other side of the call. Jones’ wavy dark hair hung in awkward angles over his face; the sudden movements of living in the moment had adjusted the strands into random and unintended places. Jeff sent Jones a dark look and scooted away from his partner as he continued to type away on the keyboard. Jones nodded every now and then as he listened and grinned when the conversation was over. "Thank you very much," he said and hung up.

“Good news! They found the car Denmark was taken in."

"What's the bad news?" Iceland interjected suddenly, his abrupt, unexpected and soft voice causing the other three to jump.

"The bad news is that the kidnappers dumped the car in a junkyard and took the liberty of scheduling it to be crushed soon for us."

Jeff grabbed his coat and slung it over his shoulder. "Our previous case can wait, let's get that car before it's unrecognizable."

Jones jumped out of his chair and began walking off. He stopped halfway down the hallway he turned around in a fashion Iceland's mind related to Johnny Depp’s characters. "You two coming or not?"

Norway and Iceland practically bolted out of their seats and joined Jeff and Jones at their sides. "Thought you'd never ask," Iceland said, which led to a scolding look from Norway.

"We will gladly accompany you, is what I believe my little brother meant to say," Norway said, continuing his scolding attitude towards Iceland.

“Stop calling me that,” Iceland responded, and Norway raised his eyebrows.

“I’ll consider it the day you cave in and refer to me as big brother.”

Iceland glared at his older brother, but Norway’s eyes were unblinking and as unreadable as ever. Jones smiled at the actions, holding back laughter.

Soon the four of them were in Jeff's car and driving to the junkyard the car was in. They went in and were looking for the vehicle when Jeff got a call. Jones picked up Jeff's phone once again; Jeff _was_ driving after all, and after only a few sentences into the conversation he slapped his hand on his thigh.

"Aw you're kidding, please tell me you're kidding..." Jones muttered, groaning. "Jeff, pick up the pace. There’s been an update, the crushing of that car has been rescheduled to occur any minute now."

Jeff swore heavily and gave the engine more gas. Norway looked up and saw security cameras, two of them, but one looked far newer and different than the other.

"They knew we'd be here, they can see us. We'd better hurry up, find the car and get out of here."

That was when they finally laid their eyes on the car. Sighing, Jeff and Jones got out of the car, Jeff jogging ahead to check out the scene. "There's someone still inside!" He began running towards the car, but the process of crushing the car had already been put in motion. Norway left the car and stood next to Jones, staring at the car.

All the color in the Norwegian’s face drained in a second. He knew who was in the car by the outline. Hair that stuck up and spiked that way was impossible to forget. Denmark was inside the car.

"N-Nor... Norway! Run! Get away! Take Ice and get out of―" Denmark’s voice screeched, and with that the entire car was crushed, blood painting the windshield a sickeningly dark shade of red.

Norway jogged up to what was left of the car, his breathing rate accelerating. His mind was in immediate denial; he couldn’t believe what he had just seen, nor did he want to believe it. Norway tugged on the door with his entire body weight, and it fell off with a loud _cha-ker-chunk_. He tried to reach Denmark’s corpse, but it was beyond his reach. He could see the head shape of the man, however, and the shade of blonde on the corpses’ head convinced Norway that this was reality, not just some nightmare he could wake up from and escape.

At that moment, Norway realized that Denmark would never be there to comfort him when his dreams turned dark, he would never wake up to see Denmark’s sleeping face next to him, he would never be able to fall asleep in Denmark’s arms again. It crushed Norway’s heart in a fashion similar to what the car that was in front of him had experienced.

"Can we get this car to expand at all?" Norway asked, grief causing his voice to crack.

Jeff came up and placed his hand carefully on Norway's shoulder. "We'll do our best," he said, his voice soft and sympathetic.

Soon there was a small team of people working to repair the car enough to drag the corpse out. Iceland got out of Jeff’s car and stood by the door, his hand over his mouth in obvious horror, his face deathly pale. Norway stood as close to the destroyed car as was allowed, watching carefully. Suddenly, the crew revealed a bloody arm and leg, which was attached to a bloody body, and soon the corpse was fully revealed. Norway choked at all the blood ― he may have been a Viking in his youth, but the sight disturbed him and make his stomach do back flips. The car had snapped Denmark’s neck, which was obvious from the unnatural angle his head was tilted. He came close to the corpse and rested his eyes on Denmark's face.

Only, as Norway came close to the body, he noticed something particular. After shutting the clouded, light blue eyes, he stood up and turned around. He was glad that while the death was not pretty, considering that more things had been snapped than his neck, that the man in front of him had died quickly.

Jogging over to Jeff, he told the officer of his finding. "That's not Denmark."

"I'm sorry, what?" Jeff exclaimed, pulling back.

"The man in that car, he's not Denmark."

"Are you sure? He could have been mangled beyond recognition in that car."

Norway nodded, "I'm sure. The body on that carrier is not Denmark. Yes, Denmark has a few tattoos, but he doesn't have them on his arms, and his tattoos are not skulls and fire." Norway went back and told this to Iceland, whose face remained a sickish, pale green color, but was obviously relieved at the news. Jeff and Jones talked with the crew for a while, then proceeded to drive Norway and Iceland back to the precinct.

"From what we're gathering, the man that was killed in the car was the getaway driver. The other kidnappers must have been the ones who tied him in there and gagged him, and a speaker was found with a recording of Denmark talking to make it sound like him triggered by an untraceable signal. They had a camera that self destructed as soon as it was moved to tell when we came for the car." Jones's voice boomed out to the other officers in the room as he informed them of the updates on the case. "We looked at the original security camera, and it showed evidence of being vandalized, seeing that all the recordings from the past week had been removed. Our team is currently trying to identify any source of DNA that could be pulled from the camera. The license plate was removed, but after tracing the car's design we were able to determine that it was reported stolen a few weeks ago. In fact, we have a video of the car being stolen from a nearby gas station’s camera, but all of the people seen in the video have shown up dead, or are, naturally, missing, and also identify to five different names across the globe."

Norway and Iceland had moved into the waiting room, helping themselves to some of the precinct’s weak coffee. Jeff joined them while Jones rattled on about the case and more of the little details, explaining that these people definitely know what they’re doing, which would make them difficult to corner. Despite how hushed Jones tried to say that, Norway and Iceland, with ever-listening ears heard it anyway.

"Would the two of you like to leave? I can take you back to my home, I'm done with my shift." Norway and Iceland exchanged glances. There was a silent, untranslatable conversation bouncing between their expressions for the blink of an eye, something that happened quite often around the brothers.

"Yeah, we might as well go so we don't end up wasting time," Iceland stood up, Norway following shortly after.

As they began walking to the elevator, Jeff leaned closer to Norway. "It was very brave of you to have stood and waited for the body to be recovered."

Norway knitted his eyebrows together, "it wasn't brave, it was denial. I just couldn't believe it, and so in my mind I convinced myself to believe that it was someone else, or it hadn’t happened."

"It might have been denial, but it was admirable. I never would have been able to do what you did today."

Norway sighed; the way Jeff tried to read him annoyed Norway, but he also found comfort in the knowledge that someone cared enough to try and peer over the emotional wall the Norwegian had only built higher over time.

"I've never been one to get disturbed by such things. Please understand this, Jeff. I might consider you a friend, but in all honesty, you barely know me at all." Norway sent a small smile to Jeff before getting into the elevator with Iceland. Jeff followed shortly after, and there was complete silence in the elevator, save for the clicks and the clanks of moving gears and belts.

In a matter of minutes the three of them were Jeff’s car yet again, zooming off to Detective Geoffrey's home.


End file.
